


Sweet Torture

by MacButton



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Dom Ryan, Dominant, F/M, Fake AH Crew, Fun, GTA, GTA AU, Heist, Kidnapping, Los Santos, Love, One Night Stand, One Shot, Oral Sex, Reader Insert, Sex, Submissive, Thief, Torture, Vaginal Sex, achievement hunter - Freeform, not really - Freeform, reader - Freeform, ryan - Freeform, ryan haywood - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 17:33:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15645588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MacButton/pseuds/MacButton
Summary: Ryan Haywood is commissioned to probe you for information. Things don't go as planned.





	Sweet Torture

It was inevitable, really. With how many heists you pulled against rival crews, you were bound to get caught once in a while. Los Santos was a small town when it came to crime associations, and, as a thief for hire, you would often fall from good graces only to bounce back shortly thereafter. 

Still, it wasn't fun being zip tied and shoved into the trunk of a car when someone higher up was angry. It was hard to breathe, for the gag between your lips was pulled taught and whomever was driving the car neglected to slow down at any turns. 

After a sufficient jostling, the car screeched to a halt. The trunk opened to reveal your captors. They manhandled you to a nondescript house in the middle of the desert, making you stumble over yourself a few times. 

The house, at one point, must have served as someone's home, as there was furnishings decorating the rooms you passed through. The goons finally dropped you on a wooden chair in the middle of a room.

You glanced around to get your bearings: tile floor, lone table with miscellaneous items laying on top, a hook in the ceiling. 

_Maybe you were in more trouble than you had originally expected._

Someone walked in behind the men that brought you. He stepped before you, so you looked up to meet his face. His dirty blonde hair was pushed back casually and he adorned a blue and black leather jacket that barely hid his muscular frame. 

You didn't usually run into attractive men in your line of work, but this one caught you off guard. He's face shifted from smug to irritated in a matter of moments after seeing your face. 

“Oh, you've got to be kidding,” he argued to the men that brought you. “She's a _girl_ for fuck’s sake!” 

“She's not, just get on with it,” they retorted with thick accents. 

The mystery man crouched down so he was eye level with you and sighed. His eyes were bright blue, and he looked at you with softness. You were nervous around this guy, unsure of whether it was because of his appearance or because he was likely here to hurt you.

“Sweetie, are you a girl?” He asked. 

You nodded, and he threw his hands up in protest. 

“I don't know what kind of psycho you think I am, but I do _not_ torture women. End of story,” he started to the door, and you followed his path with your eyes. 

One of the men put a hand on his chest to stop him in his tracks. 

“The bitch has three million dollars worth of jewels we hired her to steal hidden away somewhere. We're getting them back one way, or another.” 

The other man turned to you, studying you with interest. You adjusted in your seat and rolled your wrists to regain feeling in your fingers. 

“Fine,” the man relented. “But I'm doing this my way. Get out so I can work.”

The goons left, and the man shut the door behind them, leaving the two of you alone. You watched nervously as he walked to a box on the table, opening it in his direction. He held a vial and syringe, raising the bottle and filling the syringe with a substance.

Your heart thumped when he stepped to you this time, panic settling in your stomach as he neared you with the device. 

“Alright, hun, here's the deal,” he started. “I don't want to hurt you, at all. But apparently you pissed someone off enough to bring you to me.” 

You wiggled anxiously. The syringe was all you could focus on, and he seemed to notice. 

“Sweetheart, I'm talking to you,” he said, tugging the gag out of your mouth. “What's your name?” 

You kept silent, taking the opportunity to moisten your throat. His frustration grew, and he rubbed his forehead with his free hand. 

“I'm Vagabond,” he introduced. “What's your name?” 

You shifted and considered your options, opting to tell him your thief handle. 

“My name's Rogue,” you admitted, your voice hoarse. He nodded and smiled. 

“Alright, Rogue,” he continued, towering over you. “Where are the jewels?” 

His tone was serious. Undeterred, you looked square in the eyes and lied. 

“I honestly don't know what they're talking about.” 

Vagabond chuckled. His voice was deep and made your stomach flip. If he wasn't interrogating you, you might have considered hitting on him. 

Unexpectedly, he closed the comfortable distance and ran his fingers through your hair across the top of your head. You shivered at his touch. He paused at your crown and tugged your head backward, forcing you to meet his eyes. 

“This syringe is filled with a chemical mixture that's commonly referred to as 'Truth Serum’,” he said sternly. “You can tell me where the jewels are, or I can _make_ you tell me. Your choice, doll.”

You gulped and kept with your story, “Really, dude, I gave them what they wanted. I don't have any of their jewels.” 

A disappointed sigh sealed your fate. Vagabond knelt beside you, holding your arm firmly. You wriggled in protest and tried to bargain with him. 

“Listen, Vagabond,” you panicked, “Y-you don't have to do this, you know.” 

He pinned you to the back of the chair as he continued. 

“This isn't your problem!” You argued louder. “I can pay you!” 

You winced as he punctured your skin, finding your vein. He squeezed the plunger down, releasing the serum into your bloodstream. You stomped your foot at the burning sensation, as it was all you could do; Vagabond's grip held you like a vice. 

“Shh,” he soothed, removing the needle once finished. He met your eyes and explained the process.

“It will take a few minutes to take effect, but, once it does, you'll start feeling a little woozy. Then we can talk.” 

He returned to the table and placed his effects back into the case. You watched his every action, but couldn't ignore the sensation burning through your body. The concoction spread up your arm, leaving a trail of warmth and a tingle with each moment that passed. 

You made a fist and flexed your muscles, only expediting the process. Head down, you took several deep, rhythmic breaths. Once you managed to control the pain, you glared at your torturer.

Vagabond was resting against the edge of the table, arms crossed against his chest. He looked at you sympathetically. 

“A little painful, I know, but that's how it takes effect faster,” he conceded. “Don't worry, hun, we'll be finished, soon enough.” 

He unzipped and removed his coat, laying it across the table. He was wearing a fitted black tee, and you readjusted in your chair at the sight of his biceps. You were unable to focus on anything else. In a trance, your mind fixated on his appearance, repeating the attributes you found attractive in a silent mantra. 

Vagabond eyed you with similar interest, waiting a few minutes until you were sufficiently sedated. His lazy smile and unrelenting stare were torture enough for you. Gripping the edge of the table behind him, he showed off his physique. 

“Feeling a little better?” He asked, tilting his head. 

With your synapses firing slower, you spoke without filter, “Yes.”

His smile grew with pride, “That's good to hear, sweetheart. Now, let's talk about the jewels, huh? Why don't you tell me where you hid them?” 

“I don't want to tell you,” you whined. 

Vagabond's smile faded and he took two strides toward you. You stared at the floor, your head swimming with confusion.

“Look at me, Rogue,” he ordered with a low tone. 

Reluctantly, you raised your head. Vagabond's eyes were dark and terrifying. A chill ran up your spine, and you sunk lower in your chair. 

“I'm being more than accommodating. The least you can do is return the favor and be honest,” he said with a straight tone. 

Your heart pounded in your chest and you bit your lip to stifle a whimper. 

_Honesty._

“You're so hot,” you blurted. 

Vagabond's brow furrowed in surprise, and you felt yourself grow red with embarrassment. However, you couldn't hold back. 

“Ever since you walked in the room, I've only thought about how I’d love to fuck you,” you winced at your brash words, but Vagabond didn’t seem offended. In fact, he looked interested. 

“Is that so?” he asked, rhetorically. “What did you imagine doing to me?” 

Your eyes glittered with excitement as you painted your picture, “I imagine you’re rough with me: ordering me around, pinning me against the wall, making me beg for it.” 

You looked down at his growing bulge and moaned, “I imagine sucking your cock while you watch. Hearing your sexy voice telling me what a good job I’m doing.” 

Your vision blurred with desire, so you closed your eyes for relief. When you opened them, Vagabond was inches from your face, still towering above. He brought his hand to your cheek, brushing your stray hairs back to get a good look at your face. His cheeks were pink; you clearly struck a nerve. 

“What’s the magic word?” he pressed. You could feel his breath on your lips, but you kept your position. 

“Please,” you begged. 

Vagabond slammed his mouth against yours in a show of force, deepening the kiss before you could gain the upper hand. His tongue was soft against your lips, and you met it with your own eagerness. You moaned with relief, finally getting what you wanted all along. 

While your tongues tangled, he gripped your shoulders and forced you to stand. You wobbled, but stayed steadfast. Vagabond took a half step backward, reaching into his back pocket and producing a small knife. Your eyes widened at the sight, but he brought it around your back, sliding it between your wrists, and cutting you free from your binds. 

“You won’t be needing that” he said. “You’ll listen to me, won’t you?” 

You rubbed your wrists in comfort and shook out the tingling sensation. 

“I’ll listen to you, Vagabond,” you confirmed. 

“Good girl,” he praised with a grin. 

Vagabond lifted you with ease and walked you over the few steps until you reached the wall. Setting you back down, he attacked your mouth once more and continued his dominance. 

“Undo my pants,” he ordered. 

He paused the oral assault and took off his shirt, revealing an impressive physique. You did as you were told and fumbled with the button on his jeans, easing the zipper down. Your fingers drifted to the dark happy trail leading to his pelvis, but he quickly paused your progress, pinning your hands. He pressed both of your wrists with one of his hands above your head and kissed into your neck. 

“My turn,” he said, swiftly undoing the button on your jeans and yanking them down.

He nipped at your earlobe as his fingers found their way inside of your panties. When he ghosted over your clit, you moaned. He chuckled and deepened the motion, making you lurch away as instinct. 

“You’re so wet,” he cooed, stealing a quick kiss. “You really have been thinking of fucking me. Naughty little thing.” 

His fingers were gone, and you whined in protest. 

“Touch yourself,” he ordered. 

You did as you were told and worked your index and middle finger around your clit, just as he had started. It didn’t feel nearly as good as his touch, but he watched you intently and that was fuel enough for your growing fire. He pulled your pants down your legs and tugged them completely off. Soon after, he rid himself of his jeans, leaving him space to play with his impressive length while he admired your naked lower half. You stared at his erection and moaned, twisting your fingers intensely as you masturbated to his naked form. 

“Do you want this?” he asked. His breath was ragged, holding back his own desire to enjoy the control. 

You nodded fervently, “Yes!” 

He wasted no time. Gripping your waist, he turned you around so you faced the wall. You pressed your palms for stability as he pulled your hips back so you were bent forward. 

“Open your legs,” he instructed. You obliged and felt him line up with your entrance. You let out several whines to coax him in, but he didn't press on. Instead, he leaned close to whisper in your ear.

“Beg for it,” he teased. “Beg for me to ruin you.” 

“Please!” You implored. “Vagabond, please fu-” 

Your words caught in your throat and transformed to a lengthy moan as he eased himself inside. You stood on your tip toes as he inched himself to the base, filling you up entirely. He was bigger than you anticipated, and he wasn't giving you much room to adapt to his size. 

Vagabond held your hip roughly with one hand, gaining leverage by holding your shoulder with the other. He licked and bit your shoulder and neck, while you tried to see him in action. He grinned when your eyes met, but didn't slow his increased pace. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he praised. 

His hips slammed against yours in a brutal show of force, making you cry out in a mixture of both pain and pleasure. Vagabond was hitting the sensitive spot deep inside of you, and you struggled to focus on building your orgasm. The serum kept your brain from staying on task, but each of his thrusts forced your body to give him what he wanted. 

“I want you to come for me,” he ordered, releasing your shoulder and dancing his fingers down your torso. 

They settled on your sensitive bundle, and you wiggled under his talented digits. It was difficult to concentrate. The pressure in your core built, but your mind wouldn't let you feel the release; it dissolved before you had the chance. 

Vagabond wasn't taking no for an answer. His breath was on your ear, his voice deep and seductive as he urged you on with a simple, repeated command. 

“Come. Come. Come.”

His mantra took control of your brainwaves; you repeated it to yourself until you were finally able to finish what he started. 

Your eyes rolled back as your orgasm released in waves. As you pulsed around his length, Vagabond pressed deep into your core, holding his position on your sensitive spot with effort. He chuckled when your moan turned high pitched, and he swallowed your sounds with a deep kiss, letting your ride out your relief. 

You came down from your high with deep breaths, but Vagabond was still inside of you, pumping to his own fast-approaching release. The movements were wild and sloppy, his mouth connected with yours as a source of leverage. Abruptly, he pulled out, turning you around by your waist and flattening you against the wall.

Vagabond pulled your shirt up, playing with himself while he rested his forehead against yours. You took control, teasing his tip with your thumb. He came shortly thereafter, releasing himself all over your chest and up your stomach. 

The pair of you paused to catch your breath. Vagabond held you close, littering you with sweet kisses even after he was finished. The serum was wearing off by the time he helped you clean up. Soon, you were both putting your jeans on and making small talk. When he reached the table to put on his jacket, you struck up the conversation.

“I have to be honest,” you confessed. Vagabond looked at you with interest, taking your hand and pulling you flush against his chest. 

“What’s that, sweetheart?” he asked, brushing his lips against yours. 

“I didn’t steal three million from those fucks,” you admitted. “I stole five.” 

Vagabond’s eyes widened at the revelation, but before he could interject, you continued. 

“I’ll give you half if you get me out of here alive,” you bargained. 

He smirked. Just then, the two men knocked on the door, opening it partially before swinging it to fully enter the room. Their eyes widened a the sight of you freely walking around the room. With two abrupt snaps, both of them dropped to the floor, dead. You turned your head to see Vagabond with his pistol drawn, lowering it when he was sure the goons were down for the count.

“Why don’t we just get out of here together?” he suggested, tucking his pistol into his jeans and taking your hand. 

You smiled, rediscovering interest in your new partner. 

“Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so, remember that scene from Reservoir Dogs? This is NOTHING like it. But seriously, I'm a little buzzed and just having fun with Dom Ryan, at this point. 
> 
> HOW'S YOUR NIGHT


End file.
